


The Darkness of Night is Beautiful

by Polka42



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Guardian Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I'll Add tags as we go along, Kinda the average fic I guess, No immediate ships, Strong Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:33:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polka42/pseuds/Polka42
Summary: Marinette has a plan. Several plans, actually.1: Stop a war2: Move to Gotham3: Help peopleNote to readers: I hope this is a fun read for some of you. I can't promise regular updates, but I will try!
Relationships: Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Sabine Cheng/Tom Dupain
Comments: 37
Kudos: 324





	1. The Heist

It was time. Dark clouds covered the moon. The air felt like rain. She closed her eyes, drinking in the last moments of peace. Sounds of water rushing in the Seine and wind rustling past buildings filled the quiet night. Marinette breathed in the Paris air, and turned to face her kwamis.

She reached towards her ears, shivering as the chilly wind hit skin normally covered by earrings. Marinette turned towards Tikki, handing her the miraculous. 

“You know what to do if this goes wrong. Trixx, Pollen, are you ready?” The two kwamiis nodded and Marinette relaxed slightly, knowing she had the support of the kwamis. “Then let’s begin. Trixx? Let’s pounce. Trixx, Pollen, unify.” 

Marinette felt the magic of the miraculous burn through her body. It was exhilarating, no matter how many times she transformed. She climbed slowly onto the rough railing of her balcony, picking up a small envelope and Kaalki’s miraculous, before giving Tikki a small smile.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Calling the power of mirage, Marinette cloaked her movements with the night shadows, and leapt out into the darkness.

* * *

The huge building was intimidating to strangers as it was, but Marinette felt the darkness radiating from the house. It filled the air with sadness and foreboding, and seemed to tell everyone to ‘stay away’.

_ Oh well.  _ She shrugged to herself. She didn't have time to contemplate the building’s corruption. It was time to move. Marinette walked closer to the dark gate. Breathing deeply, she jumped over the gate and began her run towards the house. 

Dust flew from unseen footsteps as Marinette raced towards the edge of the house. She leapt onto the rough exterior, clinging to a window sill. Pulling herself up the house, Marinette ignored the dirt and grime that threatened to make her slip, pushing against the outcrops of the windows.

Thank goodness for Gabriel’s obsession with natural light.

She neared the top of the house, and Marinette flung herself towards the outcrop of the roof. Her fingertips caught the cold stone as she maneuvered her way onto the roof. Her feet planted on solid roof, she darted towards Adrien’s room, a few stray raindrops hitting her face.

Marinette reached the edge of the roof. She grabbed the outcrop and carefully lowered herself down. She felt her body tensing as she held herself by her hands, inching down the wall. 

Marinette dropped through the open window. Silently thanking Tikki for pushing those morning exercise sessions. She was glad that she was known to be clumsy. It was so easy to believe that Marinette would happen to leave a window open when visiting her friend. It was too bad it was going to let in more than fresh air.

Her fall onto the floor was muffled by a soft carpet, and she glanced at the room around her. Adrien was sleeping, Plagg sitting to his side. Marinette looked at him and sighed. She didn't want to do this, but she didn't really have another choice.

Marinette walked towards Adrien’s desk; conscious of her movements in the unfamiliar room. She pulled the small envelope from where it had been lodged beside her belt and moved to put it on the desk. Marinette stopped. She didn't have to do this. Maybe there was another way.

Plagg drifted next to her, and Marinette shook herself out of her hesitation, nodding at him.  _ This was necessary _ . 

Necessary, maybe.. But not kind.

Marinette sighed in frustration, stepping towards her sleeping friend and kneeling by his bed. Now for the first hard bit. Marinette bit her lip as she concentrated on the short spell. Her fingers tingled, she felt power filling the room. Slowly, a ball of… nothing, surrounded Adrien’s hand. 

Marinette reached out and pulled his ring off, careful not to jostle any part of his hand that wasn't covered by the spell. No sense going to all this trouble just to touch a part of his arm that could actually feel something. It might be a few days before he fully regained feeling in his hand, but he would be asleep for the worst of it.

She tried not to feel guilty as she removed his miraculous. He had refused to return it. There was a whirl of black as Plagg rushed into the ring, and Marinette relaxed. She rolled her eyes at herself. She shouldn’t be this tense. But still, the relief was palpable. 

Moving towards the door, Marinette refused to let herself look back. She had wasted enough time being emotional.

* * *

The hallway was even more quiet than Adrien’s room. It was stifling, really, but Marinette pushed on. 

How convenient was it, that a bathroom just happened to be down the hall from Adrien's room. How convenient that Gabriel’s room happened to be in that same direction. Was it really Marinette’s fault that she had opened every room in an attempt to find the bathroom? After all, she  _ definitely  _ hadn't been trying to find Gabriel’s room, she’d just forgotten directions.

Marinette walked through the hall, finally arriving at Gabriel’s room. Easing the door open, Marinette moved into dark space. She focused on the bed under the window, stepping closer, and closer. The dark room afforded little protection, but she didn't need it. She was so close. A few more steps..

_ Thunk _

_ “ _ Emilie?”

_ Idiot!  _ Marinette berated herself. Only  _ she  _ would trip on the way to take out a supervillain. 

Marinette started to panic. She almost yelled for Pollen’s venom before she caught herself. She couldn't jeopardize her plan. Marinette paused. She matched Gabriel’s breaths. She waited for any movement from the man. Waited. Trusting Trixx’s magic. 

Slowly, she heard the man’s breathing even out. Marinette moved away from the offending bit of floor and stepped beside the bed. She reached her hand out towards the sleeping Gabriel. She didn’t have time to waste with fancy movements. She had to count on him waking as soon as she spoke the phrase.

She wasn't disappointed. The almost silent call of “Venom!” had him starting from his sleep. Marinette jabbed blindly at Gabriel, jerking her hand away as the man stiffened, ignoring the slight trembling of her fingers. It wasn't her most put together moment as a superhero, but it was effective. Gabriel was paralyzed. Conscious, but unable to speak or move. 

Marinette leaned closer, and a bright light flashed as she ripped the dark brooch from his collar. A purple kwamii flew into the miraculous, and she smiled slightly, wishing Nooroo well, before returning her attention to the man before her.

“Gabriel Agreste. I don't have time for a lengthy speech, but remember this. I will be watching you. You have caused destruction and heartbreak for years, and you  _ will  _ help repair the damage you’ve done.” 

Marinette turned to leave. “Goodbye, Hawkmoth.”

Gabriel’s angry breaths were the only answer as the young woman faded away into darkness.

_ Two down, two to go.  _ Marinette thought, as she walked towards Gabriel’s office. The touchy parts of her plan were mostly over, but Marinette quickened her pace anyway. In and out fast. That was the plan.

* * *

Emilie’s portrait greeted her as she entered Gabriel’s office. 

Marinette walked up to the portrait and pressed a sequence of well worn panels. The floor slowly opened beneath her, and a round platform began to sink into the ground.

She gulped. So she was nervous about going into a supervillain's mysterious basement. Sue her.

The movement around her slowed, and the platform lowered into a huge, dimly lit cavern. A tree was growing on the opposite end, and at the foot of the tree there was… a coffin. If Marinette didn’t already know what it contained, she would  _ really  _ be freaking out right now. 

The walk to the coffin felt very melodramatic. Marinette wanted to run, but it seemed wrong to run in a place like this. It was full of.. Solemnity. She didn’t want to disturb the peace of this chamber. 

Marinette paused as she reached the coffin. The woman inside seemed to be sleeping, but Marinette knew the truth. She pressed the smooth edges of the glass. Looking for some kind of button or catch. A rush of air left the coffin as Marinette found a release. The glass lid hinged away from the woman. 

Marinette leaned over Emilie Agreste. Her face was too pale. She was too quiet. Marinette shuddered. But her job wasn't over. 

“Pollen, Trixx, divide.” Marinette called softly. “Trixx, visions fall.” The first step was to get rid of the corruption in the woman. She didn't need a disguise for that.

As soon as the kwamis detransfromed her, Marinette felt her head compress. She knew this would hurt, but holding Trixx’s illusion and the transformations for so long had taken their toll. She was so hungry, she felt her head and back aching, and she just wanted to lie down and sleep. The dim lights didn’t help keep her awake... and the grass was so soft.. She had time..

“Marinette!” Trixx yelped. Marinette jumped out of the haze of pain and weariness. You could always count on kwamis to wake you up. They may be powerful, ancient beings, but they had very shrill voices.

Shaking away her thoughts, Marinette nodded. “Ok. I’m awake.” 

She took the black ring of the cat and placed it on her finger, waiting patiently as Plagg arrived in a flash of light. 

“Hello, Plagg. Are you ready?”

“For someone who doesn't have any cheese, you ask a lot of favors. But I guess I can help you this time.” Plagg said grumpily.

Marinette smiled tightly, shifting as a bolt of pain sliced through her head. She was glad Plagg didn't seem to want to add to the melodramatic setting.

She turned to her side and opened her purse. Carefully pulling out a viscous purple potion. Marinette sighed in relief. The container was closed, the liquid calm. She was glad that it hadn't been jostled during the earlier parts of the evening.

Opening the container, Marinette turned back to Emilie. She dipped her fingers into the liquid and began to spread the thick potion on Emilie’s face, concentrating on her forehead. As she finished with the last of the potion and set the bottle back in her bag, she watched the potion darken. The liquid thickened and mutated into a rolling, corrupted, black mass.

“Plagg? Here it comes!” Marinette said, gathering up the putty-like matter. The kwamii floated forward lazily, eating the glob in a single bite. Burping, Plagg gave a self-satisfied grin to Marinette.

“Not half bad. But I guess it's too much to hope that you have any camembert around. Not really a fan of the aftertaste.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, and checked on Emilie. She could see the corruption had left her mind. The woman was breathing easier. Her face had color returning to it, and she seemed to be more.. Alive. Emilie would never be as youthful and healthy as she was, but she would be able to return to her family and live a long life.

Raising the glass of the horse miraculous to her eyes, Marinette prepared to send Emilie somewhere safe.

“Kaalki, full gallop.” 

She had to be careful, but she trusted Kaalki to make it a gentle transportation. Emilie would end up in a hospital bed in the outskirts of France, with no memory of how she got there.

Marinette focused. She concentrated on the hospital she had been at while visiting her family in the country. She focused on the kind nurses, the soft beds, the wise doctors.

“Voyage!”

A blue glow rose from beneath Emilie. Marinette barely caught a glimpse of a hospital bed, before Emilie was gently dropped onto it through the portal. 

Marinette let her shoulders relax, grimacing, as a bolt of pain shot through her head. She wasn't looking forward to detransforming. Mental note to ask Tikki for pain medication when she was home.

“Kaalki, Plagg, unify.”

She had one last thing to do.

Marinette had no qualms about running now. She wanted to leave. She had spent too much time here. She sprinted down towards the secret passage, ignoring the slight ringing in her ears.

  
  


As Marinette arrived back in Gabriel’s office, she gave a sigh of relief. She was half expecting to find Gabriel, Nathalie, or even the Gorilla, but she didn’t. It was an empty room, with one more bit of business to attend to. 

Marinette reached towards Emilie’s portrait, pulling it away from the wall. Behind the portrait was an elaborate safe. She had to get into it, and she only knew one kwamii with such a knack for destruction. 

“Cataclysm.” 

Marinette touched the safe with her hand, watching it crumble to dust. Sifting through the ash, she picked up the book of the miraculous and the miraculous of the peacock.

Well. That was easier than she’d thought it would be.

She turned to leave, stepping towards the door. The door that Nathalie was currently standing, open-mouthed, in. Marinette froze. 

“Ah! Uhhh... Hi? G-gotta go! See you later!” she yelped. “Kaalki, voyage!”

* * *

In a small bakery, a blue glow dumped a hero onto the floor of a very pink room. The dark clouds from earlier had broken, and the beat of rain against the roof soothed Marinette’s worry.

After five years, Paris was actually safe. It was peaceful. Cars honked and rain pattered on the streets and buildings. Paris was waking up to a new age. Marinette was happy.


	2. The Move

Incessant pounding in her head woke Marinette for the fourth time that night. The pain medication Tikki gave her last night had done nothing to alleviate the throbbing in her skull. 

Marinette stumbled down the stairs to the sink. Glass in hand and eyes closed, she fumbled for the kitchen wall, scraping her finger against the wood door frame. She could feel Tikki’s presence behind her; a floating beacon of support while she fought through the migraine.

Stumbling into the kitchen, Marinette trailed the wall with her fingertips as she walked blindly towards the sink. Her hip ran into the counter and Marinette grunted.

Sure. Just add some more pain.

She felt along the countertop, stopping as she felt the cold metal of the sink. Marinette reached for the faucet, filling her glass and splashing her face with the running water.

Remind her  _ not  _ to do this again.

She slid to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest as a bolt of pain went through her eye. She was so tired. Her whole body ached, and the pounding in her head refused to go away. She just wanted to sleep. To make the pain stop. She wished it would just go away. Go away…  _ Just let me sleep... _

* * *

“Tom?” Sabine whispered, “Tom, Marinette fell asleep in the kitchen again.” She reached down and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Marinette’s ear. Sabine sighed. Today their darling would leave them. She would go away to a far away place, and they wouldn’t see her for months.

Tom walked up behind her. Brushing a kiss on the top of his wife’s head, he glanced towards his daughter. His baby girl was slumped on the carpet by the sink. An empty glass sat a few feet away. 

“It’ll be alright, darling,” Tom said to his wife. “Marinette won’t be gone forever.” 

Sabine smiled at her husband’s encouragement. “I know, dear. But still…”

He nodded, giving his wife a small smile. They would miss her.

Picking his daughter like a sack of flour, he began to carry her to her room. She snored slightly, shifting as he brought her upstairs. Tom moved carefully into her room, nudging aside suitcases and bags as he placed her on the chaise lounge. Peering into her bed, he picked up a discarded blanket to lay over her.

Tom stood up, groaning slightly as his back shifted. He turned to leave the room and noticed that Marinette’s old pictures and designs had been taken down. Pink walls were no longer covered in a little girl’s dreams and ideas. She had spent weeks preparing for her move to America. Her whole world was shoved into bags and suitcases. The sewing machine and design projects were packed away or put on hold. Anything she wasn't bringing with her was stacked in neat boxes under her desk.

He knew she had packed and repacked too many times to count. She was so excited to go to Gotham and start the new phase of her life. Sighing fondly, he leaned down to tuck the blanket closer to Marinette. He was so proud of his amazing little girl.

As the trapdoor creaked closed behind Tom, a flit of red darted towards Marinette. Tikki snuggled close to Marinette, sleeping away their last morning in Paris.

* * *

“Dear Marinette,

“We are pleased to invite you to the Gotham Lights Institute of Design. As a recipient of our Leslie Thompkins Scholarship, you will receive full financial compensation for your studies and living needs while attending Gotham LID. Please see our website or contact us for more details.

Furthermore, we wish to congratulate you…”

Marinette set the worn letter down on the blanket beside her. It had been months since she had received the letter, but she couldn’t stop reading it. It was really real. She was going to the prestigious Gotham Lights Institute; somehow with their most celebrated scholarship. She shivered in excitement, fiddling with the silver ring on her finger.

Marinette had been worried about her secret identity, and so she had planned to leave Paris right after the heist. In hindsight, that hadn’t been the smartest idea. The after-effects could have used a few more days of rest. She still felt that deep weariness in her bones and her whole body felt... delicate. 

But the opportunity she had been given still felt surreal. By the end of the day, she would be making a new home in another country, far away from her native home and language. 

A part of Marinette wanted to cry. She wouldn’t be near her parents anymore. She wouldn’t come home to cinnamon and chocolate wafting through the air, and parents ready and willing to support her in any way they could. Another, more independent part of her said to find something better to cry about. She would be coming home to visit her parents in just a few months, and she could always hop home using the horse miraculous. 

She might have to explain nonexistent airplane tickets, but it would be worth it.

Marinette let her melancholy float away and looked down at her phone. It was a quarter till seven. She had time before she had to be at the airport, but she’d rather not push it. She didn’t have a particularly good track record for being on time.

Moving carefully, Marinette checked on the miracle box for the hundredth time. There it sat, nestled in the bottom of her traveling bag, along with her wallet and passport. She would have it right by her through the entire journey.

A few last-minute items lay around the room, and Marinette walked around to collect them. Her phone charger was dropped into her travel bag, along with a few pens and her sketchbook. She grabbed the trash from her late-night miraculous-fueled snack binging, and a lone sock under her bed, dropping them in their respective baskets in the bathroom.

Moving towards her luggage, Marinette forced herself to leave her suitcases untouched. She had repacked them so many times now. Going through them again would only waste time.

She glanced one more time at her mostly empty room.

Just a few more hours and she’d be halfway to her new life in Gotham. A nice, little apartment was waiting for her (Not that Marinette had checked it out in person, but she trusted Kaalki’s assessment of the place), and she couldn't wait to get started with her plans.

Now she just had to get all these bags to the airport...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for your comments! I love reading what you all had to say. I'm really excited to see where this story will go, and I'd love to continue to hear your thoughts.


	3. Work

“Really, Plagg? I leave you alone for  _ two minutes _ .” 

Marinette’s voice echoed in the empty room as she shook her head in frustration, crumpling the to-do list in her hands. Discarded cheese stick wrappers littered the dusty wood floor around her feet, and a sheepish Plagg floated in front of Marinette. 

“Aww...” He whined. “But if you didn’t want me to eat them, why would you put them there?

Marinette rolled her eyes. This was the third time this week! 

Spinning on her heel, she began stomping towards the door, but hesitated as she reached it. There was a lot of work to do, and she needed to start somewhere… Slowly, Marinette turned to look at Plagg: grinning wolfishly.

“Well, since you’re full of cheese,” she chirped, “You should be ready to help!” 

Plagg’s eyes widened as Marinette pulled the silver ring from her necklace and placed it on her finger.

“Plagg!” She smiled, “Claws out.”

The black kwami swirled into the ring with a whoosh, and a dark costume appeared in a flash of light. 

Marinette glanced at her gloved hands. She really had to find some way to contain that excess magic… She could still feel the remnants of it swirling around the room.

She ran her fingers along the wood doorframe and sighed. The list of things she had to finish for this shop was so long. There was so much to do! 

During the past four years at Gotham Lights Institute of Design, Marinette had slowly been compiling money and materials for her plan. The fantastic scholarship she had received had backed all of her personal expenses, which meant any money she made, she kept. (That was, of course, if she kept her grade high enough to keep the scholarship.)

She had spent four years working herself to the bone on college classes, commissions, and part-time jobs. Marinette shuddered as she remembered the many all-nighters she pulled before exams, anxiously waiting to see if that would be the day she would lose her scholarship. She remembered the weeks of working herself to the bone through school, jobs, and stress. 

Honestly, it was thanks to the kwamis that she had made it through college at all.

They had taken care of the little things. Her apartment stayed neat and clean, her laundry was finished while she was out of the house, little lists of necessary purchases grew while she was away at work. The feeling of coming home to a clean and peaceful apartment made the days more bearable.

And in the end, those years of non-stop work were worth it.

She was standing in the doorway of a small kitchen, looking at the ovens and equipment that she had bought over the years. She was standing in her  _ very own  _ coffee shop.

Ok, sure. She was near penniless, but she could push through. Just a few more months of living on pasta and old coffee.

Marinette felt a shiver go down her spine, as she let the excitement of the day wash over her.

A smile blossomed on her face, and she rolled up her metaphorical sleeves. It was time to get started. First item on the list? Demolition.

Marinette walked briskly into the kitchen, pausing at an ugly, gray rug that was draped over the floor. She yanked the offending object off the ground, exposing a barely noticeable seam in the floor. Gripping the edge of the crack, Marinette began to pull it open.

“Ouch!” she yelped. Instead of pulling up the door, she had pushed up a fingernail. Marinette sucked on the injured finger, trying to get rid of the pain.

So yanking the door open wasn’t a good idea. Marinette reached behind her, grabbing the silver staff on her back. Jamming the end of the staff between the lip of the door, and the rest of the floor, Marinette slowly pried the stubborn trapdoor open.

Hinges creaked, and the door exposed a staircase. Marinette carefully stepped down the concrete stairs into the tiny storm shelter, brushing aside cobwebs and bugs as she surveyed the room. This was why she had bought this place in particular. She needed a building near the middle of Gotham, and the fact that this room gave her an architectural headstart was a significant bonus.

She lifted her arms, making sure to protect her injured finger. She could touch both grimy walls at the same time. It was tiny, but the room afforded just enough depth to give her a start for the demolition. 

Marinette breathed in slowly, releasing the air slowly and placing her hand against the front wall. She leaned closer, envisioning another cavity, much larger than the room she was currently in. She imagined it. Forcing herself to focus. Throwing away the stray thoughts that flitted through her mind.

  
  


“Cataclysm.”

Slowly, a perfect rectangle of wall and earth crumbled away.

“Yes!”

Marinette could have danced. Those hours of practice had finally paid off! She couldn’t even count the times she and Plagg had sat down to practice controlling cataclysm. The long days of frustration and weariness she felt from so much magic were finally over. 

She still remembered the several times she had almost given up in frustration. She had been demoralized, and so very tired. Once, after failing on her experiment, Marinette had punched her wall, letting the pain translate her frustration. She had sat down on the floor and let hot, angry tears fall as the kwamis tried to comfort her. She had been so grateful for their patience. (Except for Plagg. He opted for tough love.  _ It’s not like you’ll have it perfect any time soon. Now stop crying and try again.) _

Marinette shook away the memory as she detransformed. She stretched, feeling only a fragment of weariness she would have had four years ago.

It was like a muscle. The more she practiced magic, the more she could do. But she knew there was a limit. Just like muscles, if she pushed herself beyond her abilities, she would regret it.


	4. One Year Later

“Hmm, buh dah dat dahhhh..” Marinette hummed along to the music as she swept the paintbrush along the trim. Drops of paint dotted the old towel under her knees as she listened to the kwamis racing around the room, squeaking as they played a game. 

Plagg had tried to explain it to her once, but she didn't have enough knowledge of the 14th-century world to  _ really  _ understand how it was played. Something about combining English children’s games and Chinese poetry.

Marinette swiped the little droplets of paint off the top of the trim and stood up. Groaning, she set the paintbrush down and stretched to work the kinks out of her muscles. She glanced at her phone and frowned. One o’clock already? The deliveries should be here by now. She sighed and walked towards the kitchen, peeking out into the dining area to hush the kwamis.

“Hey," Marinette called behind her, "They should be here soon, so be ready!” 

Leaving the kwamis to themselves, she turned to unlock the back door out of the kitchen. Marinette started as she heard the grumble of a large truck approaching the building. She twisted the lock and set the door open, ready to greet whoever was bringing her deliveries. 

The huge truck beeped as it backed towards the open door. The engine cut out, and an older man eased out of the truck cab. 

“Hello!” Marinette called, as she walked forward to greet the man.

He gave her a rough nod in response and began to open the back of the truck, pulling out a rusty, old cart. Marinette shrugged, and began directing him towards the door of the kitchen. So much for being friendly.

Slowly, the kitchen began to fill with cardboard boxes, and Marinette felt her excitement grow.

“Thank you for unloading everything, sir.” She said, thrusting a package of treats towards him, “Here! We’ll be opening tomorrow, so tell your friends to stop by!”

The man grunted in acknowledgment, taking the package and pulling himself into the truck. It could have been her imagination (it wasn't) but his face seemed a little less grim as she saw him sniff a pastry, and bite into it. Nothing like a little sugar to brighten up your day. (Of course, the magic helped too.)

She closed the back door, turning the lock as she faced the kitchen.

“Alright,” She sighed, “Guys! Tikki, bring everyone in here, we have a lot to do.”

She heard scuffling, and a moment later the kwamis joyfully darted in, followed by an exceedingly grumpy Plagg. She giggled and shook her head. Someone had undoubtedly bowled him over.

Grabbing a knife from the counter, Marinette gestured towards the stacks of boxes.

“We have an hour to put all of this away, and then we need to prep. Tikki? You’re in charge of the coffee station. Let me know if you need help. And  _ no picking  _ from the creamers. Got it?” 

Tikki sulked, nodding as she floated towards the door. She  _ never  _ got to drink the coffee creamer. And it tasted  _ so good. _

“Plagg, you take the rest of the sheets and cleaning supplies downstairs” She pointed to a larger box, beside the oven. “They should be in there, but if not, let me know.”

Gesturing towards the mass of boxes, Marinette began to direct the rest of the kwamis.

“As for the rest of us, we have all of this to put away. Let’s go!”

Marinette and the kwamis jumped to action, filing away flour and sugar, tossing boxes into a pile, and shoving frozen butter into coolers. Slowly, the kitchen became more organized, and the threat of tomorrow’s opening seemed less intimidating without the mess.

Marinette dusted her hands off as the last box was unpacked, but her work had only begun.

* * *

Hours later, an exhausted Marinette climbed the flight of stairs to her living area. She slowly pulled her shoes off, trying to ignore the dull ache in her feet.

The kwamis trailed behind her, moving towards Marinette’s tiny guest bedroom, which they had turned it into a training room and free space for the kwamis. Tikki settled on the large cushion Marinette made, leaning into Plagg as the rest of the kwamis slumped onto the soft fabric. 

They appreciated having a space for themselves. Kwamis loved their holders dearly, but everyone was entitled to a little privacy, and they knew Marinette needed a little time to herself sometimes, just as they did.

They slowly nodded off, lulled by the sound of water falling from the shower. They were asleep by the time Marinette yawned herself to her own small bedroom, setting her alarm and crawling under the sheets and sleeping bag.

The small window let in cold Gotham moonlight, that fell gently into Marinette’s room. Shadows flitted across the floor and danced on the walls before disappearing. 

Night time in Gotham shadowed crime and murder, but the dark night and city lights were so beautiful.


	5. The First Day

Marinette woke to the incessant beeping of her alarm. She fumbled for the source of the noise; reaching for her phone to shut it off. Pulling herself off the floor, Marinette blearily rubbed her eyes as she stood upright.

After a quick shower, Marinette made her way down the steep stairs, pushing down the rising anxiety as her mind cleared. First, she had to start the baking process, and she still had to reply to the messages about employment. Oh! And she needed to set up the dining area and the cash register...  Light flooded the kitchen as she hit the light switch, and Marinette dismissed her worries. She had work to do. 

Most of the morning dough was ready to go into the oven, but she still had to mix up the muffin batter and prep the breakfast station. 

She turned the ovens on and began pulling out knives and cutting boards to prep for the day. Slowly, chopped vegetables, eggs, fruit, and more fresh food appeared in neat rows in the refrigerated front counter. The smell of baking bread, cinnamon rolls, and bagels filled the air as Marinette spun through the kitchen, throwing pans of baked goods. She ran to the sink to fill the lettuce bin, before dashing over to the mixer. She had forgotten to start the muffin batter!

Marinette relaxed. She felt more at home here, surrounded by flour and baking powder. Mix together milk, eggs, and vanilla. Just one thing at a time. She was finally catching up...

“Er... Miss Marinette?” A hesitant voice broke Marinette’s concentration, and she spun on her heel to look at the intruder.

There stood a young lady, maybe five years younger than her, gesturing towards a bin overflowing with water.

“Did you mean to do that?”

“Ah! I completely forgot!” Marinette ran to the sink and started to pull lettuce out of the sink, trying to drain the offending water.

“Thank you so much! Uh… who are you and how did you get in?”

The girl shuffled over to help pull lettuce out of the drain.

“I’m Adi? You gave me a key and told me to be here by five. Well… I’m here.”

Marinette mentally kicked herself.

“I am so sorry. Of course. I knew you would be here, I just lost track of time!” She could feel her face getting red. Of course she would completely forget about the _one_ employee she had hired. That’s what she got for not having an in-person interview.

Haphazardly throwing the rest of the lettuce away, she turned to face Adi.

“Alright. Well, I hope we can move past this terrible introduction. I’m Marinette, no need to call me Miss Marinette, you’re perfectly fine with just my name.” Gesturing towards the kitchen, Marinette led the way to muffin batter, “So far, I’ve just been prepping everything. I understand that you should be a quick learner. Didn’t you work in a bakery before moving to Gotham?”

The girl nodded, before grinning. “Speaking of which, is something burning?”

  
  


Despite the awkward beginning, Adi proved to be a tremendous help. She kept pace with Marinette: zipping around the kitchen, filling containers, covering a fresh bin of lettuce with water, and pulling baked goods out of the oven. Thankfully, none of the latter were burned (Though Marinette declared two of the cinnamon rolls to be just a tad too dark. What a shame. They would just have to eat them). 

Soon, the two young women were old hands, laughing and joking as the last of the prep work was filed away. The sky was growing lighter by the minute as Marinette stood by the counter, setting up the cash register app. Adi carried menus out to the front, setting them in a neat pile beside the front counter.

The streets of Gotham grew steadily noisier as they waited to open the shop. Harried people began to race out front, and Marinette bounced in anticipation.

“Alright! It’s seven o’clock, can you unlock the door? Yes, the one on the rig- your other right! Then you push it down until it clicks. Exactly like that! Thank you.” 

Marinette thanked Adi and shoved away her nerves. A tidy, new coffee shop was sure to attract some attention, and her weeks of advertising wouldn’t hurt. This was the next step of her plan, and she wasn't about to let a little fear stand in her way.

Brewing coffee filled the air as Adi set out pens and paper to take orders. Marinette threw open the curtains to let the sunshine (or lack thereof) stream into the room as they waited. The ovens were still warm, the baked goods were beautiful, the coffee smelled  _ amazing,  _ and they had all the pans ready to cook some hungry people breakfast. They just needed the hungry people.

As the first minutes ticked by, Marinette tapped and shuffled, finding anything she could do to distract herself. She remembered Adi’s application.

“So… What are your future plans? What are you studying?”

Adi glanced at her new boss and smiled. 

“I don't know exactly. I’ve always wanted to help people, but I’m not exactly sure how. I decided to study history though. Maybe become a teacher! I’ve heard that the Gotham Lights Insti-”

The door scraped open. 

"Nevermind," Adi said. She winked at Marinette, before turning to greet their first customer.

"Good morning! Welcome to the Fat Cat Cafe. How can I help you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!


	6. Another Day, Another Dollar

“Adi, the phone is ringing. Timmy! Where are my croissants?”

Marinette walked through the kitchen, carrying a huge box of soap and towels towards the supply room, scattering employees as they ran to do her bidding. Dirty dishes flew in the general direction of the sink, and the dull roar of teenage chatter filled the kitchen as they hurried to finish the prep work.

Setting down her load, she raced over to the door to let in the rest of her grocery-laden employees. After a week of unmanageable stress, Marinette had finally gotten back to applications and hired four kids, including Timmy B: who was currently being a huge pain in her rear.

“Timmy, I need the croissants  _ now. _ ” 

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he started pulling beautiful golden pastries from the oven. Marinette sighed, turning to face Adi as she rushed beside her.

“Hey, Marinette! That was Miller’s Water and Electric. They placed an order for their business meeting tonight. We also finished most of the prep while you were gone, but we still have to chop lettuce for the salads and finish filling the bakery station.”

Marinette nodded, “Okay, thank you! Take Nia to do the lettuce. And grab Camden to help Timmy with the croissants. Everything else is already stocked.”

Marching through the kitchen, Marinette began to direct her employees as she thought through everything the day held. She still had to make an order for fresh food. Miller’s would probably want mostly pastries, but they needed fresh fruit anyway… and she still had to train Trish and Camden on the front end of the cafe. Adi was a real trooper but she couldn’t handle the amount of traffic they were getting.

“Nia, dear,” Marinette stopped by the young girl, “You want to chop the lettuce a little smaller. Think of how you would like to eat it.” Marinette took the knife and chopped the lettuce into thinner strips, “Like this, see?” Marinette smiled as the girl took back the knife and copied Marinette’s slices.

“Perfect!”

Nia beamed as Marinette raced away to check on Timmy and Camden.

The two kids were almost done. They were good to go.

Marinette walked to the front and unlocked the door as her employees finished the prep work. She had Adi to thank for all of their efficiency. She had become a great leader in the kitchen, mentoring the younger kids through the learning curve of their first job. 

She smiled as she watched the hustle and bustle. Even if she was frustrated with Timmy, she could see that they were all working very hard. These amazing kids were the ones helping her adjust to her new life.

Glancing outside, Marinette saw that the streets had started to wake up. She jumped behind the counter as the early bird customers began rolling in. The little cafe was located quite near the business district and had become immensely popular among the business class of Gotham. Though Marinette’s first dream of a homey little coffee shop wasn't realized, she enjoyed the busy life of fueling Gotham’s law firms and tech companies

“Good morning Mrs. Jones, earl grey? I can do that.”

Adi joined Marinette up front, and they began to plow through orders. 

“No, we don't have blackberry muffins, but if you let us know in advance we can make some especially for you.”

Marinette sent Adi to grab the other girls as Trish ran up from the back to make the coffee orders.

“Yes, Sir! We do have decaf. Is this to-go?”

With Camden taking larger orders over the phone, and Adi taking orders at the front, Marinette was free to direct the coffee-making and breakfast-cooking for their patrons.

“Yes, it’s ok that the yolk broke. Just make sure you’re more gentle next time. Okay, Nia?”

The burst of action began to even out, and the dull drone of polite conversation filled the air. She could hear the faint honking of traffic and yelling of angry pedestrians outside, but the Fat Cat Cafe was a peaceful haven for the average office worker, on their way to another day of paperwork and stress.

* * *

The last of the lunch rush filed out the door. Marinette locked the front doors and turned to look at her employees. 

“Good job everyone! I couldn't ask for a better first month. I know school is starting soon,” Marinette said, “ But we are closed on Wednesday, so that should give all of you a break to focus on school.

“Thank you so much for all of your help. I’ll see you all tomorrow!”

Slowly, the teenagers shuffled out, talking amongst each other. Sighing, Marinette spun to look at the empty room. And so she was alone.

Well, not really alone. 

The kwamis poured down the stairs as Marinette shut the curtains.

“Marinette, you would not  _ believe  _ what Longg just did!”

“I deny that accusation.”

Marinette giggled as the kwamis swarmed the room.

“Oh suuuuure... That won't change the truth!” Xuppu humphed.

Glancing at Kaalki and Tikki’s favorite shelf, Marinette winked at the conspiratorial kwami spectators as they watched the drama unfold.

“Technically he followed most of the rules. Just not the _unwritten ones._ ” Plagg grumped, looking pleadingly at Marinette for a verdict.

“Hey, I’m not taking sides!” Marinette laughed, ignoring the indignant faces of Xuppu and Plagg as she picked up the Miller order.

_ Miller’s Water and Electricity, Co.  _

_ Delivery - 3:45 PM _

Marinette glanced at the clock. One o’clock.

She ran to the kitchen, pulling out boxes and chopping fruit as she worked through the order. As she finished packing all of the food (thank goodness they had made the pastries earlier), Marinette began to carry the boxes out to her tiny rental car. She didn’t love driving, but it was better than getting into a sketchy cab with five boxes of food.

Marinette left the kwamis and locked the door. She leaned her head against the cool metal of the door and sighed. She was so tired. And she hadn’t even started her plan yet. How was she even supposed to start the plan? It was all too complicated.

She shook her head. Relationships took time, and she needed to build some before she gained any trust in Gotham. At least that’s what she told herself.

* * *

“Good afternoon, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I see you’ve brought our order.”

A spindly-looking man greeted her at the door, gesturing towards a room on the left.

“Everything is set up as we discussed.”

Marinette politely thanked the man, walking away as fast as she could. That guy gave her the creeps. He felt… wrong.

As she laid out the pastries in neat rows, she glanced over her shoulder, watching the odd assortment of people go by. 

She wasn’t normally one to judge so quickly, but she didn’t like this place, and she didn’t like the people. Marinette hurried to finish her job, before asking the spindly man where the ladies room was.

“I’d just like to freshen up if you wouldn’t mind.”

The man directed her towards the opposite side of the entry hall, pointing out the room near the fountain.

Thanking him, Marinette walked in, setting herself in one of the stalls. Slowly, she closed her eyes and focused. She pulled at the tendrils of magic that always clustered around her. As she focused on the magic she could feel the oppressing darkness of Gotham, but especially this place. It felt like everything was.. Congregating here.

She tried to dismiss the aura, sorting through the magic until she found what she was looking for. 

A wisp of Trixx’s magic still clung to her, winking and shifting as Marinette pulled it close. She winced as it pushed against her. Magic didn't like to work without its’ kwami, but this time it would have to.

Marinette began to weave a spell. Not strong enough to make her invisible or change her appearance, but enough to make her.. Unnoticeable.

She stood up and braced herself against the wall as she waited for the fatigue to hit her. As she straightened, her head started spinning, and she felt slower than normal. She really needed to build up her magical endurance again.

Pushing the stall door open, Marinette made her way out of the bathroom, walking through the hall full of eerie people. She watched for any reason to come back here, to investigate this unsettling company, but stopped as she came to the conference room. 

The spindly man along with many other oddly dressed and shaped compatriots sat around a table, seemingly discussing an extremely nervous looking man standing inside the door.

She looked at the man. He looked like an average office worker. The name tag on his chest read “Mr. Anthony King, Daggett Industries”.

Glanicing around the room, she entered quietly to listen to the conversation.

“...And if he doesn’t  _ comply _ , I suggest we find some extra motivation for him.” A short man with a long nose finished speaking, cackling into his croissant as a lovely lady stood up.

“Well, I can’t say I agree. If we get new identities, who says Mr. Daggett needs to know.  _ I  _ say that we keep his resource and leave Daggett to scramble for another.”

The man by the door shivered, trembling as he dabbed his sweaty brow with a crumpled handkerchief.

“Hmph…” A large man at the head of the table stood up, “I don’t see why we’re discussing it. Here’s what we need to do…”

Marinette had heard enough. She knew a few of these faces, and they needed to get out of here. Reaching for Trixx’s magic, she pushed it towards the trembling man, ignoring the growing headache that accompanied the spell.

The hubbub of raised voices filled the room, and Marinette reached for the man, pushing a bit of Plagg’s magic toward his mouth to keep him quiet. 

She yanked him backward as she ran for the door, weaving through the crowd of people somehow ignoring a girl in her twenties pulling an extremely flustered man through the lobby.

As they burst outside, she walked to her car, shoving the man inside and pulling away as fast as she could.


	7. The Interrogation

Anthony woke to the sound of raised voices. He struggled upright. Had they gotten him? He had to get out of here. It was hot. The air was hot. It felt like he was surrounded, but he couldn’t see anything. Was he blind?

That question was answered as a sudden light blinded him.

He blinked against the glare, trying to see who was there.

“So… Mr. King _. _ ”

If he wasn't already dead, he was about to be.

“What do you do?”

He wriggled back, falling out of the rough wooden chair. Shoving himself away, he scooted along the grimy floor, trying to find somewhere to stand.

He jerked as a voice sounded to his left.

“Who are you?” 

The light shut off and a gust of wind blew him back against the ground.

“What are you  _ hiding _ ?”

“N-nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking abou- whoah!”

Something flew past him, eerily close to his head.

He grabbed at the ground around him, scrabbling for anything. His fist closed around something. A wave of anger overcame him. They wouldn’t get anything from him. Not today.

He waved the object at his assailants.

“I don’t know who you are, but back off!”

A door slammed open, and the mysterious presences scattered.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Anthony saw the outline of a young woman. She flipped a light switch and walked to the table to set down her pot of tea, picking up the chair he had knocked over.  


She looked at him with concern, and he glanced at himself. His worn suit jacket was ripped, he was a sweaty mess, and he was brandishing a teacup.

She walked towards him, leaving him nowhere to go as she plucked the cup from his hand.

“Would you like sugar? It’s earl grey, I hope you don’t mind.”

* * *

Marinette sipped her tea, watching the man over her cup. He had yet to drink any himself.

She sighed, setting down her own cup. 

When she got her hands on Plagg…

“Listen, Anthony, I’d like to apologize.”

He started at the sound of his name.

Marinette continued, “My… employees... Can be rather extravagant. I promise that we meant you no harm.”

He stayed silent. She sighed again, more audibly this time.

“Listen, I got you out of that place, and I think we can help each other.”

He glanced at the table.

“I can help myself.”

“Maybe, but how long before they find you? I can give you a safe place to stay.”

He fiddled with the teacup.

She leaned in. “Just tell me why you were there.”

He pushed the cup away and glared at her.

She shrugged inwardly. If he didn’t have something holding him back, he would never have been in that room.

“Alright.”

She stood up slowly, reaching for the steaming teapot.

“Keep yours.” She gestured to his cup, “There’s a bathroom down the hall and a pantry on the left. It’s a little empty, but I haven’t had much time to get it ready.”

She backed outside, shutting the door softly before immediately losing her cool.

“Plagg, I’m going to kill you!”

Kwamis parted to let the enraged Marinette through as she stomped up the stairs and burst through the trapdoor. 

“I cannot  _ believe  _ you did that! He was our guest!”

The kwami in question sheepishly floated down the stairs.

“Aw, c’mon. I was just trying to find out if he was a goon!”

“Sometimes you can’t joke, Plagg. You’re like a thousand years old, can you act like it?”

The kwamis surrounding them oohed and aahed as the argument continued, finally dispersing as Marinette threw her hands in the air and revoked Plagg’s camembert privileges for the foreseeable future. 

All the kwamis knew they would apologize to each other later, but their arguments were very entertaining.

Marinette fumed for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and glancing around the room.

“Tikki, Wayzz, I need your help.

“We need to finish the house.”

* * *

Marinette stepped out the back door, locking it behind her. She could feel bands of power surrounding the cafe, swirling and simmering with kwami magic. It was enough to steer away bad intent and be a beacon to the lost, but it wouldn’t stand up to real investigation.

It was the power of suggestion.

If you didn’t think something was important, you wouldn’t go there, and Marinette had mastered the subtle art of magical suggestion.

She had “suggested” that everyone look the other way as she kidnapped Anthony King, just as she was “suggesting” that evil look the other way when it came by her cafe. It was the most she could do right now. She didn’t have the power or the people that full-scale protection and illusion enchantments required.

Marinette looked down at her phone. All magic aside, she needed to get this guy on her side, and there was only one way to do that.

Climbing into the tiny rental car, she chugged out of the driveway, riding through the streets of Gotham, racing through puddles of oil and water, trying to ignore the oppressing darkness of Gotham.

Finally, she arrived at Apartment 227 Paris Street.

_ Thunk _

She heard something fall as she knocked on the door.

“Anthon-”

A harried-looking woman ripped open the door. The joy on her face faded and she straightened.

“Whoever you are, go away.”

She turned, ready to slam the door, but Marinette stopped her.

“Ma’am, I know you don’t know me, but we need to go.” Marinette held up her phone, with a picture of a disgruntled Anthony King sitting in her car.

The woman gasped.

“What did you do to him?”

“Uh... Nothing? He’s fine... ish... I just need to talk to you about his job.”

The woman ignored Marinette, slamming the door and racing back into the house.

“Boys! We have to go!”

Marinette sighed. It wasn’t like she was  _ trying  _ to be scary, she just couldn’t think of a good way to explain the situation.

_ Hey, Mrs. King, your husband is probably in a lot of trouble, and he won’t talk about it until I have a way to make him trust me, and I thought you could help. But this isn’t going that well, and now that I think about it, it seems like I'm threatening you. But I  need  you to come with me because I kidnapped your husband, and Miller’s Water and Electric are going to be looking for any opportunity to get him back. So really, I’m trying to save you, not kidnap you. I  _ promise.

Yeah. She was really nailing this whole “I’m definitely not a supervillain” thing.

She fiddled with the doorknob before opting to knock the door down. They didn’t have time to worry about appearances, the Kings were in more danger the longer they were here.

Ten minutes later, Mrs. King and her two boys sat snoozing in the back of her car, along with what looked like a decent amount of keepsakes from the sparse house.

And she still needed to get gas.


	8. The Contact

After hours of arguing, she had gotten through to Anthony and Delia King. Partially because they knew they couldn't leave without endangering their sons.

She had left the family sitting in her makeshift guest room. The boys had nodded off  since she gave them her sleeping bag, and their parents were ready to discuss the situation, but there was no reason they couldn't talk over coffee. She sorted through the day’s leftovers, picking out the freshest pastries for her guests and setting them on her tray, along with three steaming cups of coffee. Balancing the tray on her hand, Marinette clambered through the trapdoor, walking down the hallway towards the Kings' room.

“So what exactly do you do?”

She asked as she walked through the door and set the tray in front of Mr. and Mrs. King, picking up her own cup before moving to the opposite side of the table.

“Thank you,” Mr. King picked up his coffee. He stared into it, lost in thought. Mrs. King reached for her own cup, nudging her husband as she added milk and sugar.

Mr. King jerked out of his thoughts and began to talk. 

"I used to work for a subset of Daggett Industries." He said, "Mr. Daggett discovered my.. talents, and decided to employ me directly.”

He reached for the cream, pouring a generous amount into his drink.

“If his men got in trouble, I’d get them out of it. They could be most-wanted one day, and Mr. Brown from Tinyville the next.”

His wife took his hand.  


“He never broke the law before, it was just a hobby: a challenge. But it didn’t matter." She said bitterly, "If Mr. Daggett wants you to work for him... You don’t have a choice.”

Marinette nodded. She sipped her dark coffee, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste.

“Why didn’t you just forge one for yourself? You could’ve gotten your family out.”

“And go where?” He asked, “We’ve lived here our whole lives. And even if I did, we wouldn’t get far. I’m one of Daggett’s  _ assets _ ." Mr. King spat, "He’s been watching me from day one."   


His face screwed up in distaste and  Marinette nodded in understanding. 

“I guess you have two options, then. Leave Gotham now, while you’re under my protection, or stay here and work for me.”

Mr. King started.

“You may have saved us, but that doesn't mean we trust you.”

“And you don’t have to," she shrugged, "But we’re still dealing with the same problem. I can help you get out of Gotham, but I’m trying to start something here and I need help. I need someone like you.”

Mrs. King glanced at her husband before looking behind her at the sleeping boys.  


Mr. King watched his wife as she squeezed his hand.

“No.” He said, firmly.  


Marinette sighed. “Alright, fine. Then let's find out how to get you out of Gotham."  


* * *

The next week was exhausting.

Marinette was up before the sun to keep her cafe going. She spent the long mornings baking, cooking, and dealing with Timmy, while she spent her nights planning with the Kings. They burned a lot of midnight oil making new identities and arranging for their new life.

Marinette struggled to keep the weariness from showing. She knew Adi could see her struggling as she barely made it through the morning, but she played it off as well as she could. During that week, she relied on naps to get her through the day. That bakery shipment won't be in for ten minutes? Nap. Adi had the cafe handled for a bit? Nap. Her kwamis started rebelling against her bad habits, and she kept finding sleeping pills in her bathroom? Nap.

Finally, Saturday came.

Marinette closed her cafe at the normal time, calling overly cheery goodbyes to her employees as she hurried them out the door. As the last teen left, she shut the door and rushed over the tile. She dropped to the floor and yanked the passage open. 

“Let’s move!” She hissed into the dark.

Grabbing her keys, Marinette raced around the house, locking doors and windows while she waited for the Kings. Anthony was the first to emerge from the hole, he pulled himself up, along with his two boys, before helping his wife up.

Marinette muttered under her breath, feeling Trixx’s power flow as she weaved the magic around the Kings, shielding them from recognition. There was no time for silent enchantments.

She pushed the door open and unlocked her car, dropping the Kings' few possessions in the trunk. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat, collapsing under the weight of stress and magic as the Kings followed. One by one they climbed in and buckled themselves into the car. 

It was silent as they drove. Each stop sign was a heart attack: every unmarked vehicle a phantom. Marinette drove haltingly, avoiding the business district as far as she could.  


At last, they left the city limits, merging from the city streets to the highway. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief as they began to travel on lonely dirt roads. 

Four hours and two bathroom breaks later, they arrived at their new home. It was a lovely little house, just a few minutes from the nearby town.

As the kids and their mother piled out, Marinette spoke to Anthony. 

“Here,” She said, shoving an envelope of cash at him, “I hope this helps you guys out.”

He thanked her, and she moved back to her car. Though they had only known each other for a week, she was going to miss them. It was nice to work with them, talking to Anthony and Delia while the boys raced around downstairs.

She was glad they were safe, and maybe one day they would see each other again. She wilted a little bit. She was saying goodbye to another family. She waved goodbye and sat in her car.  


“Wait.”

She stopped, key in the ignition, as Anthony grabbed her door. 

“I know this is an insane situation, but Delia and I decided that you’re trying to do something good. I’ll help you.”

Marinette stared at him, and slowly a grin split her face.

“Really? Oh, that’s awesome!” She hesitated, “But I don’t really have anything for you to do right now.”

He laughed and waved her off.

“I’m sure you’ll find something, and we’ll be here when you do.”

She nodded.

“Then I'll know who to call.”

She slammed the door and peeled out of the driveway, leaving her newest ally standing by his family, slowly shrinking into the distance.


	9. The Girl

She clung to her bag as she walked down the street. Phantom steps raced behind her; each sound was an accusation. The street was quiet. It was dark. Everyone was home with their families. 

Except her.

She walked towards the subway, skirting away from dark alley entrances. A cool breeze grazed her skin. Her hair stood on end.  She stared straight-ahead, heels clicking against the concrete as she hurried down the sidewalk. The darkness folded in on her. She flinched at every leaf hitting the sidewalk, every honk of a far-away car.

She tensed. The steps behind her were no longer phantom.

She walked faster, keeping her mind blank. She drifted closer to the front of the shops, staying close to the light of their signs. The darkness hid her pursuer. Avoid the shadows.

She saw the subway entrance in the near distance. Relief flooded her and she kept her eyes fixed on it.  Suddenly, a leaf crunched behind her.

She ran.

She heard yelling. Pain flared through her ankle as her heel caught on the concrete, but she kept running.

The steps grew closer.  Her heartbeat was loud in her chest as she frantically glanced around the street.

She wasn’t going to make it to the subway . 

Giving up on her mission, she darted around the corner, into the first alley she saw. She huddled in the far corner, crouched behind her briefcase, and she waited.  The yelling grew louder. There was a fight. Feet raced by the alley, and a shadow flitted across the light of the street lamp.

She closed her eyes and waited.

She waited even as the short quick steps of a woman grew near. Even as she heard a low muttering in the alley. Even as she let the tears fall. Even as the night sounds faded away.

* * *

He breathed out slowly, remaining motionless as he watched the street.  He watched the girl walk down the street, clinging to an old briefcase. Poor girl. She was in a rough spot, but she would never be hurt on his watch.

Finally. The glint of a car door flashed, and he stood up slowly.  Three men hopped out and walked down the street, avoiding the light and fallen leaves.  The girl stiffened and quickened her pace. 

Good girl. Don’t run. Keep calm. 

Aaand nevermind.

One of the goons made a sound and she bolted. The men broke into a sprint, the lead yelling at his boys as they ran down the street.

Well. No time like the present.

He shot his cable across the street and glided down, making his way to the street.  He reached the fire escape and got ready to pounce, flinching as he heard the girl yelp. He glanced over to see her running, her foot twisted at an odd angle.

The men drew nearer. Professionals, they may be, but they weren’t ready for a fight from above. Nightwing landed on the lead, wrapping his legs around the man's neck. He tightened his grip and knocked the man's temples. He pushed himself off the lead as the man collapsed.

Nightwing landed on another goon’s knee, hitting it sideways with all the force of gravity. The man crumpled with a cry of pain as Nightwing whirled to face a fist.

He shielded his face but fell back as the last man continued his barrage. The man pulled a knife and Nightwing rolled to the side. They danced back and forth, the sharp knife flashing in the light.  Nightwing growled as it sliced his chest. He retreated, weaving back and forth, while his opponent lunged at him. Nightwing darted to the side. The knife sliced the air where he had just been standing.

Nightwing fell back to the wall, reaching for purchase. He grabbed the ledge of the window and propelled himself against the man, pushing hard into his gut. Nightwing knocked the knife from the man's hand and punched his nose. The man fell to the ground, and Nightwing stepped back. 

Right into the cold barrel of a handgun.

“Alright, birdie.” The now-conscious lead drawled, “Now you’re gonna walk over there. Real slow.”

Nightwing did as instructed, slowly walking past the man on the ground and the goon with the broken knee. 

He walked towards the street, listening for any sound to give away the lead’s position. Gravel scattered across the sidewalk as the lead took a step.   


There.  Nightwing dropped. He yanked his grapple gun and fell to the ground, shooting at the lead as he moved.  The grapple hit the man in the arm, shoving him to the ground.  Nightwing jumped, pulling the cable tight around the unconscious lead's arms.

Nightwing stood up and worked his way to the other men, cuffing them to a street lamp before calling the police.

He sighed. The adrenaline was beginning to fade. The pain on his chest flared, and the hits he took were starting to throb. He reached for his comm-link.

“Hey Bats. No, I'm good. Just about to get the girl.”

He silenced the comms and began to drag the bleeding lead toward the other men, grunting under his weight. Nightwing cuffed him and began to unravel the grapple, securing it to his own belt once again. He ripped the lead’s jacket, wrapping the cloth around the grapple wound.

Nightwing tapped broken-knee goon and gestured to the lead.

“Keep the bleeding stopped. I don’t really care if he ends up in the hospital, but that’s extra work for our fine medical personnel, and we don’t want that.”

The man nodded blearily, and Nightwing turned towards the corner, walking away as smoothly as he could, ignoring his own bleeding wounds.

Don’t show weakness in front of the enemy.

Nightwing turned the corner and wilted slightly.  He made his way down the street, watching every shadow.  He stiffened when he saw the girl crouched in the alley, huddled behind her briefcase. Her lip was trembling, and her ankle sat at an odd angle. Nightwing started to run to her but was too late. He could only watch as a woman made it there first. He could only watch as the woman muttered under her breath. He could only watch as tears began to fall down the girl's cheeks, and she faded away into nothingness.

The alley was empty. 

He raced forward, pushing away the pain as he reached the corner she had sat in. They were gone. The woman and the girl. He frantically patted the ground where the girl had sat.

She was gone.  He failed to protect her.

Nightwing paused. He sat back and took a deep breath, filing away the emotions. It was time to call for backup.

“Batman. We have a situation.”

* * *

  
  


They stood around the cave. It was quiet. That defenseless girl happened to be their lead in the Scori case. She was the key to unraveling the gang after the death of Martin Scori. She was supposed to meet them tonight. And they were supposed to keep her safe.

Dick broke the silence as he stood, grunting. 

"Thanks, Alfred." He moved next to Bruce, pulling a shirt over the fresh bandages.

“Can you pull up the file? Thanks, Batman.” Dick turned to look at the group.

“You’ve all been briefed on the girl. This was supposed to be an open-shut case, but something happened.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Jason leaned his chair back, twirling a baton around his fingers, “We don’t have the girl. And cut the codenames, Dick. We aren’t in uniform.”

Dick frowned at him.

“Fine _.  _ Bruce and I have been monitoring this for weeks. We got in contact, and tonight was the drop time. She had access to information we needed. We were expecting a fight, but we weren’t expecting this.”

Bruce pulled up footage from the alley. The grainy picture portrayed the girl. She started to cry, and then... no girl.

“There was a woman too, but for some reason, she isn’t on the video.” Dick explained, “Bruce and I believe this is the next in a string of disappearances connected to organized crime in Gotham.”

Bruce nodded and addressed the group, “It’s been picking up pace for months. The first disappearance was a family connected to Daggett Industries. Most of the time the victims are individuals with little to no family.”

Jason sat up as Tim moved past him.

“How do you know it's the same thing?” Tim asked.

“We don’t.” Dick moved to the computer and pulled up a map. “There has been little to no video evidence of people disappearing. The only reason we know about them is because of their connection to crime. 

“Most of these people don’t have a steady job. Maybe they live on the streets. They don’t have enough to pay their way out of this city, so they stay. They aren’t the criminals, they’re the pack horses.”

Damian bounced his foot, carefully sharpening a dagger.

“What are you saying.” He snapped, slicing the leather of the chair as he tested his blade.

Bruce eyed him. 

“We’re saying that if we don’t find out who is taking these people, we may end up with a much bigger problem than the Scori case. Whoever this is is getting bolder. They started out with the nobodys and are working up to the money movers.”

Dick tapped on the computer and pulled up a map of Gotham.

“We’ve narrowed the primary activity down to the business district. Each of you needs to begin surveillance on a different section.” Dick pointed to the highlighted areas, “We’re looking for someone with the money and means to smuggle people out of Gotham. The world runs on money, we just need to follow it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot of fun to write. I'm still getting to know all of my characters, and I'm excited to see what will happen! I hope all of you are too.


	10. The Investigation

“Money, papers, wardrobe.”

  


Marinette gestured to the piles in front of her and glanced at the younger woman. 

  


“You know, you could stay here. I know you agreed to leaving, but you’ve been fitting in really well. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

  


The woman shook her head. “I appreciate it, Marinette, I really do. But me being here is a risk for you. And after all you’ve done for me, I couldn’t do that to you.”

  


Marinette sighed in agreement. She knew Lydia had to leave, but a part of her had hoped that the younger woman might elect to stay. She had a good head on her shoulders, and was a real asset to her business. Well, both of her businesses.

  


Lydia’s voice piped up. “I was thinking though.. I have You run this operation on a small scale. Have you thought of expanding it?”

  


Marinette frowned. “What do you mean?”

  


“Like, expand it through your escapees. I know you have helped a lot of people besides myself, and I’m sure some of them would like to help you in return.”

  


Marinette’s thoughts went to the King family, and she smiled. “Sometimes they do... But are you suggesting an actual structure?”

  


“Exactly!” Lydia grinned, “When I worked for the Scori gang, they had me channel paperwork for several houses and apartments around the city. They never told me exactly what they were, but I think they were safehouses. If we work together, we could set up safe houses and companies in different cities and towns outside of Gotham. We could create our own underground network.”

  


Marinette felt the energy shift in the room as the hidden kwamis saluted this idea. With the general wave of approval, and her own interest in the idea, Marinette felt compelled to agree. Pulling a paper and pencil from her pocket, Marinette began to jot down Lydia’s ideas. With her experience, and Mr. King’s help, this could really happen.

  


By the time Lydia left Gotham, they had a solid plan and list of goals. As Marinette dropped Lydia off at her new apartment, she mulled over the details. For it to work, she needed a steady supply of good people who needed to get out of Gotham (no problem there), and a starting point for their underground. A call to the Kings was in order. Marinette parked the truck and walked into her cafe with a new sense of purpose.

* * *

  


Dick walked through the business district for the fourth time that day. He watched a certain section by night, but he had also begun a daily walkthrough of each section in addition to his own. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust the others, but both he and Bruce thought that patrolling in the day might give them more clues. 

  


It had been three weeks since the girl disappeared. They hadn’t found any evidence of gang involvement, and each lead they followed brought them to a dead end. The strings of money they pulled weren’t leading to anything, and they were beginning to get frustrated. Hence, Dick pulling a double shift. 

  


Dick cleared his mind and relaxed his shoulders as he strolled down the busy street into his own section of the business district. Time to work.

  


Each day he spoke to a couple different stores. Each night he revisited those stores to look for any suspicious actions since his visit. If someone spooked, he might have a lead. So far it had turned up nothing, but he was optimistic.

  


Today he was near the end of his section. He was visiting Kitty’s Deluxe Diamonds and the Fat Cat Cafe. They were right beside each other, and both suspiciously near the alley where the girl had disappeared. Plus, they both had cats in the name. A possible link?

  


He strode nonchalantly into the jewelry store, peering into glass cases, and sneaking peeks at the surveillance cameras and security. Sure, it was a jewelry store, but the amount of security was a little steep, even for Gotham.

  


He ambled his way towards the ring section at the back of the store, admiring the beautiful gems that sparkled at him, and the cameras that winked in the corners.. 

  


“Hello,” A quiet voice interrupted him, and he glanced at the girl behind the counter. She wore cat eye glasses and a charming smile. “My name is Cynthia. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

  


He smiled back and gestured at the rings. “An engagement ring. I’m looking for something a little smaller than what you have here though.”

  


“Oh! No problem at all. Here you are.”

  


He thanked her as she led him to a smaller case around the corner. She laughed and waved. “It’s my job, sir! Take as much time as you need.”

  


He winked at her and she hid a blush as she scampered back to the front desk.

  


Dick sighed, and set to work casing the the store. He realized that the security at the front was much more secure than any back here. Maybe to frighten off thieves.

_Or maybe to hide backroom dealings._

  


He scratched his chin thoughtfully as he looked at the backdoor. He shrugged and pulled out a camera. No sense theorizing. He was coming back tonight.

  


“Hey, can I take some photos of the rings?” 

  


Cynthia frowned. “Well, we can get you a high-quality photo and measurement brochure from our website, so you really don't have to…” She looked at him and blushed again. “But you definitely can!”

  


“Thanks, sweetie.” He winked again, and took some pictures of the rings- more specifically, the room around them.

  


After a few more questions, and leaving his card for the owner, he smiled and flirted his way out of the store, leaving the clerk totally abashed.

  


Dick shook his head in the cool air and added the pictures to the home database. The computer at the mansion should pick up any irregularities, and he would check when he went home. His hair stood on end as an icy breeze rushed past, and he shuddered. With his jacket flying in the wind, he let the breeze push him around the corner to his next target: the Fat Cat Cafe. He ducked into the store and out of the wind. 

  


He was greeted by the aroma of brewing coffee and fresh-baked bread. Patrons stood looking at the menu or seated around small tables, enjoying their morning coffee and sandwich. The room was cozy and inviting. Red brick and light paint flowed together naturally, and there were little accents in pink and red that brought out the charm of the room.

  


The curtains on the windows and the flowers placed elegantly around the room provided privacy and beauty to customers, and he let his shoulders relax. He could always use a break from prying eyes. Taking his place in the line, he waited for his turn to order. He could hear the sounds of a busy kitchen behind the wall. Scrapes, bits of conversation, and the clash of dishes occasionally broke into the quiet chatter and slow jazz of the customers’ area.

  


He drew up to the counter, and a bright young woman around his own age called out.

  


“I can help whoever is next!” She smiled, and he took the hint. Drawing up to the counter, he spoke confidently. “Hey… Adi!” He said, peeking at her nametag, “I’d like…” 

  


He used the same tactics he had at Kitty’s Diamonds. Smile, wink, get some information about the store and the owner. About halfway through his interrogation, another young woman came up behind the counter and spoke quietly into Adi’s ear.

  


“Sir, I am so sorry. Can you give me just a moment?” Taking his order-it had been filled out a while ago- Adi walked quickly to the back and the other young woman took her place.

  


“Sir, thank you for being patient. We’re a little short on staff, and Adi is one of our most reliable cooks in the back.” 

  


He assured the lady, who had no nametag, that it was no issue at all, and moved to let the next customer take his place.

  


Service was surprisingly quick for how busy the shop was, and he appreciated the good humour of the staff. With his steaming cup of tea and table in the corner, he could watch both the customers and the kitchen. Adi and the mystery woman swapped places effortlessly, moving between patrons and kitchen with the ease of practice. He watched as the mystery lady encouraged the staff, flattered customers, and smiled through disagreement. It was true that he had never worked in customer service, but he was sure the graceful and tactical efforts of the mystery woman had saved the store from more than one disagreeable customer during the breakfast rush.

  


It was a good half hour before business slowed down and he was given the chance to speak to Adi. 

  


“Hello again.” She said agreeably, raising her eyebrow a little bit as she took in the loiterer in front of her.

  


“Hello,” Dick grinned as he continued a little sheepishly, “I actually came here for a reason other than tea.”

  


Adi seemed to bite back a smart aleck reply as she smiled at him.

  


“Oh? What can I help you with?”

  


“I was wondering if I could speak to your boss? I have a question about catering.”

  


She smiled a little oddly, “Yes? Here is our catering menu. I’ll go back and get her.” 

  


Dick read through the menu quietly, and swallowed his confusion as the mystery woman from earlier steeped out of the kitchen. Adi spoke a few words to her, and she nodded, wiping her hands on a towel and moving towards the counter.

  


“So, Adi told me that you would like to discuss catering.”

  


He nodded and pulled out another business card.

  


“Wayne Industries is hosting a business meeting at the end of the month. We are looking for a caterer who is efficient and specializes in breakfast rushes.From the looks of it, you are definitely both.”

  


Her lips twitched at the flattery, and she examined the card.

  


“Well, Mr….”

  


“Gray.”

  


“Mr. Gray. It’s certainly a fantastic offer. If I could get the dates and times from you, and make sure I have no prior commitments?”

  


He hastily pulled out the flyer, eyeing her as she gave it a once-over.

  


“Alright! I think we are all set, Mr. Gray. I’ll give you a call later this afternoon. Thank you for the consideration!”

  


He smiled and thanked her likewise. As he left the shop and began to head home, he realized he had never gotten her name. Or any good information at all. What kind of rookie mistake was that?

  


He shook his head and tramped into the cold. This failure was temporary. He would return that night to continue the investigation.


	11. The Card

Marinette flipped the card between her fingers. She could appreciate the design. Heavy silver cardstock with elegant black lettering. Expensive, she was sure, but perfect for a business like Wayne Enterprises. The card fit the man. Elegant and high-quality. She sighed, placing the card on a stack of papers. He might be handsome, but he was also very suspicious.

The shop was quiet as the staff cleaned in the back. The traffic outside was speeding up, as they began closing up the shop. Marinette picked up dirty napkins and used cups as she walked thoughtfully around the room. What was so suspicious about the man… why was she intrigued by him?

A peppy voice interrupted her inner monologue.

“Hey, M! Why the long face?”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at Adi.

“Just thinking about a certain dashing customer.” She teased.

Adi rolled her eyes. 

“Stop trying to play matchmaker, Marinette. I already have a boyfriend,”

She nodded thoughtfully, “That’s true… I guess I’ll have to find another eligible young lady,”

Adi eyed Marinette. 

“I don’t think we have to look far. After all, I wasn’t the one he was watching,” 

Marinette grinned. It was nice to have this easy, bantering friendship. She’d missed it. 

* * *

An hour later, the day was done for the Fat Cat Cafe. Her call to Wayne Enterprises was a disappointment. They had found another caterer. Too bad. She likely wouldn’t be seeing handsome, suspicious Mr. Gray again. 

Marinette shooed her lingering employees out the door. The sky was growing dark, and she had work to do. 

Climbing the stairs to her room, she shrugged away the long day. Some parts of the protection around her cafe were growing thin. She needed Trixx’s power to strengthen them. Pulling the Fox miraculous from the sphere, Marinette placed it around her neck.

“Trixx! You ready?” 

“Oooh, yes!” The kwamii darted around Marinette, floating excitedly. 

Marinette giggled at the enthusiasm. At least someone was energetic. Closing her eyes, Marinette silently summoned Trixx’s power to strengthen them. Pulling the Fox miraculous from the sphere, Marinette placed it around her neck.

Strengthening the spells took time, but it was a relief to have it done. Each layer of magic added a little protection from outside forces. 

Marinette let the transformation fall and thanked Trixx, sending her back to the sphere. As the little fox bounced back to the other kwamis, Marinette stepped lightly down the uneven stairs. The kitchen was quiet as she stepped into the room, making her way down into the “storm shelter”. 

Marinette smiled as she walked down the hall. The underground shelter was slowly growing more homey. Rough, dirt walls were covered with drawings, pictures, and maps, bunks were fitted with sheets and pillows, and every area was neat and clean.

It was dark as she entered the sleeping quarters. Marinette walked more carefully, stepping around toys and baskets. Sleeping forms were scattered around the room on various bunks. She moved slowly through the room. A fuzzy blanket was falling over the edge of a bunk bed. She bent to pick it up, softly laying it over one of the sleeping children.

Marinette bit her lip. She would miss this little girl. She would miss all of them. She hadn’t realized how much these people would mean to her. Each time she helped someone, she sent a little bit of her with them. She would always know them. She would always miss them.

A soft snore interrupted her and she sighed sadly. As much as she cared for these people, she was only able to come down a couple times a day. The rest of the day, the passage was blocked by her employees. Someone would start asking questions if she went down in the “storm shelter” five times a day. Or worse, someone else would follow her. She grimaced at the thought. 

She yawned, standing up and slipping back towards the entrance.

She smiled sadly as she pulled herself into the kitchen and closed the door, hiding all traces of a secret downstairs. It was a habit now. Even if her escapees rarely spent more than a week here, it was still dangerous. She had to protect them.

Marinette walked through the kitchen, picking up a pile of papers and making her way back up the stairs. She knew the kwamis were still in their sphere. She felt terrible about that. She couldn’t give them enough attention, so she had returned the kwamiis, even Plagg, Kalkii and Tikki, to the sphere. She would rather them play together than be lonely.

She knew what it was like to be lonely.

She sighed again. Marinette mentally kicked herself. She had been sighing way too much lately. 

It was cold upstairs. The chill of her make-shift office made her shudder, but she sat slowly in the squeaky brown chair beside her filing cabinet. Checks, receipts, bills: they all blurred together as she recorded them.

At last, she pulled on the back of the cabinet. She had hidden her escape records in a false compartment in the back. She really needed to find a better place for them.

Marinette flipped through the rough papers and thick files, selecting the one she had been looking for. The Mickem’s.

Key witnesses in a trial against Daggett Industries, they had become targets for Daggett’s hitmen. Mrs. Mickem had lost faith in the police after her son was nearly kidnapped coming home from school. Just like so many others, she had been drawn to Marinette’s cafe by the magic woven around the shop. It called to those in need. To those who needed to get out.

And tomorrow, they would be leaving Gotham. Marinette glanced at the address yet again. This safehouse was fairly close to Gotham.

It was a practiced procedure. Marinette kept escapees at the cafe until Mr. King provided new identities. Once they were ready, Lydia provided a safehouse and Marinette took them out of Gotham. The escapees would make their way from location to location, housed by previous escapees, until they arrived at their new home. 

It worked. It could be slow, but it worked. 

Marinette set aside their file, carefully placing the rest of the papers into their hiding place. It was late, and she had to get up in just a few hours.

Sliding the Mickem’s file under her pillow, she climbed into bed, setting the alarm on her phone. 

At last… Sleep...


	12. The Visitor

Marinette woke with a start. Street light still filtered into the quiet room, but something was wrong.

She forced herself to take deep, sleepy breaths. Her younger self might have put it down to nerves, but Marinette was sure she could sense someone in the hall. She listened intently, waiting for any clue to an intruder.

A cold draft blew from the door, but there had been no sound. They must have oiled the hinges.

Smart. 

She could sense them moving, edging farther into the room. She needed to do something now, before they got too close. She needed to find out why they were here.

Taking a chance, Marinette pretended to mutter in her sleep, stretching loudly and shifting to face the room. The presence froze. 

So they weren’t after her.

Marinette snuggled into a new position, resisting the urge to tense up. She breathed steadily, searching under pillow for the Mickem’s file. Her fingers brushed against the paper folder and she carefully edged it toward her body. 

  
Through slitted eyes, Marinette watched the figure move towards her desk. As he moved by the window, the light from the street gave her a little visibility. He was a tall, well-built man with dark hair. He wore a familiar type of suit, but she couldn’t place it.

Whoever he was, he had abandoned his search of the desk, and Marinette felt a rising panic as he reached for the back of the filing cabinet. She tensed, ready to spring, but hesitated. If she attacked it would bring her into suspicion. She couldn’t endanger her travelers.

It was never easy to impose her will on another person, but he wasn’t on guard against her magic. Maybe she could convince him to leave. 

Marinette closed her eyes, reaching for some free magic. The wisps that usually followed her weren’t strong enough. She needed to break a spell.

She reached reluctantly for the protective spell around the cafe, pushing and weaving the magic through his defenses, willing him to stop, to leave.

He stopped. He moved.

  
  


She froze, waiting for him to leave, holding back a sigh of relief as the man stepped out of her room. He was probably moving downstairs. Marinette frowned. She couldn’t let him get into the kitchen.

If she began to “wake up” the man would probably try to get out before he was discovered. And if he didn’t… 

Then she would have to reveal herself.

Gritting her teeth, Marinette turned on her phone, squinting against the brightness. Normally she woke half an hour later, but she could only hope the man didn’t know that.

_Ree..Ree...Ree...Ree_. 

Marinette could practically feel the man freeze as the phone alarm blared. Quickly, she shut it off and faked a yawn. Light flared through the room as she flipped the switch. In touch with her younger self, Marinette fumbled loudly as she got up. Under the facade of clumsiness, she trained her eyes on the door, waiting for a shadow, any sign from the intruder.

Marinette knew she shouldn’t startle him. A scare could lead to violence. Instead, she rattled the door handle slightly to give him warning, plonking across the hallway. She kept her eyes straight ahead as she stepped into the bathroom. There was no movement from the hall, and Marinette quickly locked the door behind her. 

Her shoulders slumped in relief, and she laid down to peek beneath the door. 

A few seconds later, a presence passed by. They tried to avoid making a shadow, and Marinette had to admit they were nearly successful. If she wasn’t looking, she would have missed them.

Marinette bounced on her heels,waiting several minutes before stepping out of her bathroom. Glancing the way the intruder had gone, she ran towards the door for the roof, her bathrobe fluttering as she darted up and checked the door.

Unlocked. Marinette grimaced. She could replace it, but it probably wouldn’t make a difference. She would have to borrow magic to reinforce the entrances. 

Feeling secure that the intruder had left, she hurried down from the roof door. The hall was dark, but she ran, flying down the stairs and to the kitchen. 

Marinette hauled up the entrance to the shelter, ignoring the ladder and dropping lightly onto the dirt floor.

She slowed down slightly, walking quickly- but quietly- into the sleeping quarters.

Marinette glanced around and relaxed. 

She picked her way through the room, counting

heads and nodding in satisfaction as she saw that everyone was there. She had been sure he wouldn’t find it, but the possibility had scared her, nonetheless.

She sighed in relief and a few sleepy faces appeared at the bunks. Marinette smiled and gestured for them to go back to sleep. If the smile was a little forced, they didn’t seem to notice.

Marinette moved back to the door, the adrenaline fading as she sank down onto the dirt floor. There was nothing to connect her to her travelers. She was sure of that. 

But then how did they know?

* * *

“...I know I should’ve checked the back...I don’t know...She woke up while I was the- Hold on. She’s moving… Shut up!”

Dick ripped the earpiece away. He yawned angrily. He hadn’t anticipated a daylight stakeout. Some

people preferred to sleep after they had been up all night.

He tapped the steering wheel as he watched as the owner- Dupain-Cheng- shoo her employees out the back door. She had closed early today. Unusual.

Her shadow danced behind the curtains as he waited. The back door slammed again, and he smiled in satisfaction as he saw her delivery van pull out. The records he had pulled from her filing cabinet were accurate. If it held true, she would be gone for at least two hours, and he would be in and out in one.

He frowned. Two more shadows had appeared behind the curtains. He had counted the employees, and was sure they had all left. Where had the others come from? 

Dick reached down to unzip his camera bag, pulling the camera up to his eye. He waited. 

Dupain-Cheng stepped out of the van, opening the back of the van, and blocking his view. He growled in frustration, dropping the camera down into its case.

He could see feet under the door, but they disappeared into the back of the van.

Definitely not suspicious.

Dick watched as Dupain-Cheng slammed the door shut and took her place in the driver’s seat. He rolled his eyes. So much for a (mostly) stress-free investigation. He hated tailing cars. Especially when he didn’t have his motorcycle.

* * *

An hour later, and Dick was regretting his life decisions. They had been driving farther away from the city, and from his home turf. 

The drive grew boring, mile markers disappearing as the minutes ticked by. 

Dick was so busy being bored that he nearly missed it. The van suddenly jerked right, making its way into the countryside. Dick grimaced and yanked his car to the right, ignoring the honking from behind him.

It was a dirt road, kicking up dust into the chilly air. He began to lose sight of the van every once in a while as the road grew more hilly, until... no van.

Dick whipped the car around, tapping the steering wheel as he scanned the edge of the road. It was just two ruts in the ground, leading away from the main road. He frowned. A small house blotted out a tiny piece of the sky, and he could see a cloud of dust was making its way towards it.

Letting the car roll forward till it was partially screened by trees, Dick pulled his camera up. Zooming in, he watched Dupain-Cheng step out of the van and move to unlock the back. Yeah. This definitely wasn’t a food delivery.

Dick smiled grimly as he snapped a photo of the boy and middle-aged woman that stepped out of the vehicle. They both glanced around nervously before following Dupain-Cheng into the house.Following of their own accord? Or because of something else?

The sun was growing low when Dupain-Cheng finally stepped out of the house. She was alone.He reached over to the glove compartment before remembering. He didn’t have his gear. Dick tapped the steering wheel angrily. He couldn't investigate, and he was too conspicuous in this car.

He growled angrily and hit the gas, pulling away from the side of the road and heading back to Gotham.

* * *

Marinette froze as she saw a cloud of dust burst from the road. As much as she loved coincidences, she didn’t think this was one. First someone broke into her home, and now someone was following her on one of her relocation trips.

She was slipping.

* * *

“It makes sense,” Tim said, tapping his phone thoughtfully against his chin.

“But why would she operate with no outside help?” Dick asked, arms crossed as he eyed Tim.

“Maybe to avoid suspicion?” Tim questioned, “If she is moving criminal assets around, her clients would hardly want their activity advertised to other groups.”

“Yes, but we still haven’t ID’d the two people she was moving. Until we do, how do we know they aren’t just some cousins or something?”

“Weak, Dick. Real weak.”

They both froze as the computer beeped.

Dick stared at the screen. An ID and police report were spread across it. The two passengers had been witnesses in a recent trial against Daggett Industries.

“Well. I think we have enough to call a meeting now,” 

Tim was pointing at the police report. They had disappeared one week ago, with no audio or visual trace as to where they had gone. The police suspected criminal cause.

Tim looked at Dick. “I know you… approve of this girl. But the evidence is stacking up,”

“And we don’t have to go guns a’blazing into every situation.” Dick growled, “Maybe she’s helping them!”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Really? Dick, come on...”

“If this girl is doing what Tim thinks she is, then we need to stop it as soon as we can,” Jason dropped his dagger onto the table, stepping towards them, “Dick, you know we’re right,”

Dick’s shoulders slumped. He did know. 

He stared at the screen. If she was innocent, they would find out. But he had to consider the possibility that she wasn’t.

“You guys win. Get in touch with your contacts and we’ll see if any information shakes loose,”

Tim and Jason nodded, leaving Dick to sit by the computer. He felt vaguely uncomfortable. If she was working for Daggett, why didn’t she just eliminate the Mickem’s when she had the chance? If she had access to the money and assets of Gotham’s crime underworld, why wasn't she using them?

What was he missing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve really enjoyed reading all your comments, and I’m glad you’re coming on this journey with me!


End file.
